


Bodies in Motion

by AbsoluteNegation



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Blindfolds, Community: yuletide_smut, Complete, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsoluteNegation/pseuds/AbsoluteNegation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to stop seeing to start perceiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bodies in Motion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lawless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawless/gifts).



Evening had slipped so gently into night that Hakkai hadn’t even noticed, the untouched blanket of snow that had fallen silently all through the previous night a mute testimony to Gojyo’s lack of interest in wandering off to the bar. The world had narrowed pleasantly down to a space they heated with their bodies and that Hakkai had filled with the scent of spices, the barely perceptible thrum of the music Gojyo had put on was spreading through the room and making Hakkai’s toes tap as he scrubbed out their wok. Gojyo somewhere behind him, moving around, from the sound of it, though Hakkai wasn’t paying attention. It wasn’t quite-

A flash of red in the corner of his eye caught his attention, making him turn his head, enough to place Gojyo in his line of vision, and he was… dancing. Swaying with the music, bottle in one hand, body moving with effortless grace to the call of the percussion, all long limbs and loose hair. Unconscious, utterly unselfconscious, fluid and easy, it was the same instinctive grasp of space that he displayed when fighting, in sex, in the smooth flow of movement as he smoked, the same grace that had led Hakkai to first wonder what it would be like to wrap around it, how he might move against him, if those long, lovely fingers would learn his body with the same gentle dexterity. Gojyo danced, completely oblivious to Hakkai watching him (and he _was_  watching now, having turned without quite intending it), and it was the closest thing Hakkai had ever seen to masturbation that wasn’t, the music twining around Gojyo like a lover, small, sweet smile playing at the corner of that generous mouth as he swung around, eyes closed. So silent, despite the music that was loud enough for Hakkai to feel it vibrate in his bones, such an incredibly private moment of pure contentment that Gojyo almost never revealed, all those fragments of memory that cut and bled inside smoothed over for just this moment…Hakkai curled his hands around the edge of the counter and held on for dear life, the thought that he might disrupt it with breath or action unbearable.

In the end, though, it only lasted a moment longer, as Gojyo opened his eyes, looking straight at him. Caught: Hakkai chuckled softly despite himself at the embarrassment crossing Gojyo’s expression for a moment as he saw Hakkai watching, before he settled on a grin instead. And oh, that grin, challenging little lopsided smirk that Hakkai knew to his bones, confident and sexy, a world of promise and defiant vulnerability all at once, hands lifting, fingers crooking to beckon him over. Nearly irresistible, his call to Hakkai to step into that world of smooth lines and graceful curves – a world closed to him, though, through ignorance and self-conscious trepidation, and Hakkai shrugged, giving him a self-deprecating grin. All that got him, though, was a pout from under long red lashes (devastating, rarely employed, and all the more effective for it, damn Gojyo and his ability to melt Hakkai’s reserve) and another smooth little sway that promised so many filthy things without a word spoken. Red hair caressing his cheeks and making Hakkai ache to do the same, Gojyo giving him a sharp little grin and a jerk of his head that almost _demanded_  Hakkai come to him, dance with him. One cautious step forward, and he was rewarded with Gojyo’s smile, calming him enough not to be entirely trapped by that he didn’t know what to do, much less how to match Gojyo’s skill.

One more cautious step, against all instinct that told him this was not for him, not this, spontaneous and wild and all those other things that he’d wrapped up so long ago, packed away secure as shards of glass in his mind. Nerve giving out, right before Gojyo took over, moving to him, beckoning to him with that grin and a little shimmy and all that hope in his eyes, and a little of the trepidation and embarrassment Hakkai himself was feeling. Odd, that that should be the most reassuring thing, and yet it was, enough to make him let go of his own anxiety, and each step felt oddly like breaking free, for all the fear still gnawing at him, curling a hand around Gojyo’s neck and holding on, low laugh in his throat – equal parts nervousness and amusement, soothed only when Gojyo wrapped his arm around his waist. Guided him to sway with him, Gojyo moving easily, fluidly, leaving Hakkai to struggle to imitate, fading nervousness replaced by annoyance with his own inability. He’d used his body as a weapon, as a tool, as means to an end, mind over matter, and his body bent to his needs as easily as his chi, but this…this seemed too much a thing of the heart, and too great a skill for such a small thing to control, awkward and clinging wrong, _spoiling_  the moment, this joyous expression of oneness that Gojyo had so effortlessly given him.

He could still watch, though; watch Gojyo move, biting his lip (the ache to soothe that sting with his own tongue so strong it nearly hurt) as he looked down at Hakkai, trying to take him with him, watch, and feel the warmth and intimacy of this moment, Gojyo wrapped around him. Rocked him slowly to the music, movements gradually deepening, smoothing out, trying to drag Hakkai with him, gamely looking past Hakkai’s growing awkwardness, nervousness, the certainty that this wasn’t for him. Calculating mass-murderers didn’t get to dance as if they felt a song in their bones, and that was fair enough, only just, really, but Gojyo… Gojyo was warm and inviting, here, and drawing him with him. Drawing him back, now, Hakkai following blindly, trusting enough to let Gojyo take him where he wanted (and when did that happen?),  which was back towards the table, Gojyo wrapping him up securely, tiniest hint of stubble as he brushed his cheek against his,  reaching over and… picking up his bandana…? A tentative smile curled that generous mouth as Gojyo held it up, silent questioning look, and oh. _Oh._  The memory of Gojyo slipping a blindfold on him in bed, murmuring to just let go and feel, to let him, slid through Hakkai’s mind, sweet and arousing. This…might even work, might quiet Hakkai’s mind enough, and if ever he’d trusted anyone to blind him without hurting him, it was Gojyo. Strange as it might seem that this situation was more vulnerable than letting Gojyo blindfold him in bed, it still felt like the greater trust to nod, give him a nervous little smile and draw him closer, agreeing.

Gojyo grinned at him, oddly innocent and filthy at once, in the way that he always was when caught up in a moment, nuzzling him, soft slide of skin against skin as he blindfolded him. Darkness descending, blotting Gojyo out, reducing sensation to Gojyo’s body against his, Gojyo’s hands fastening the bandana, gentle, deft, Gojyo’s scent, cigarettes and dinner and soap…the movement of their bodies, different now that all he could rely on was his understanding of space, the way he and Gojyo moved with and around each other (always had), soothed  and comforted by it, marvelling at how good it felt to trust like this, and oh.

Perhaps it wasn’t _reduced_  at all.

Hakkai nestled in, gentle kiss to Gojyo’s cheek as thanks and acceptance and all the words he didn’t have for the emotions he didn’t know how to feel. Gojyo’s gentle caress, a finger sliding down his cheek, tiny gesture of affection  that warmed him, reminded him he wasn’t alone as Gojyo moved them again, just a slide of his hips, tugging Hakkai with him. Blind, all his other senses sharpened to accommodate him, he turned the same awareness he directed at everything else in a fight to Gojyo, now, and it seemed more organic to move with him, easier. Scent of Gojyo as he tucked his face in against his neck, the vibration of his soft pleased sound against Hakkai’s skin as he began to move them properly, shifting their feet now, moving around their tiny little kitchen, wrapped up in Gojyo, in all the scents and sounds and textures of their life together. Gojyo’s arm curled around his waist, protective and possessive, almost unbearably sweet, more pleasure than even Hakkai’s ambition had dared grasp for. It was easier, now, to slide into the rhythm, of the music and of their bodies, relaxing into Gojyo’s care and Gojyo’s arms, daring to be content for just this moment, though it felt horribly like tempting fate, healed his bruised heart as it spurred his superstitious mind to greater anxiety. Gojyo’s hand slid up over his throat, his ear, holding him, and Hakkai’s thoughts quieted, breath quickening a little as fear was replaced by need, tension by movement, his body settled, if still untutored in this new exertion. _Nobody’s looking_ , and neither was Hakkai, who was rolling his hips in a way that was probably at least a little obscene, following Gojyo’s guidance without deliberation now, his name falling softly from him as he stroked that lovely fall of hair, soft and heavy running through his fingers, delicious pleasure of Gojyo’s mouth on his jaw, gentle kiss.

Not enough, though, not for the pleasure and need that were coiling slowly, low in Hakkai’s stomach, Gojyo’s mouth and Gojyo’s body and his own craving for both – slipping away from him just as Hakkai would have reached greedily for him, Gojyo slithering away except for fingertips trailing over him, and it hurt, unexpectedly and unexpectedly deeply, for touch to almost cease like that. Hakkai shuddered, unsure what Gojyo intended and unhappy with it in any case, about to tear the blindfold off when Gojyo pressed to his back instead, long line of warmth all down his spine, one hand splaying over his stomach, holding him close, fingers pressed to the scar, reminding and binding and hurting and healing, ever a touch of contradictions. Hakkai dragged in a shaking breath, tiny sound in his throat that even he wasn’t sure what it meant, pressing back against him as he continued their odd little dance, Gojyo’s arm curled around his waist again now, their bodies pressed together, and just a minute ago, he wouldn’t have had this much confidence in his ability to predict how Gojyo would move. Which pleased him, apparently, from the way Gojyo nuzzled his shoulder close to his neck, his arm sliding up under his shoulder, out to his forearm, slow lovely slide of his hand that reminded Hakkai forcibly what else he stroked like that, how skilfully, and he couldn’t help but rock back against him (it would be impolite). Warm breath on his neck, Gojyo guiding him more directly now, lovely strong arms wrapped around Hakkai an infinite comfort, the two of them dipping and moving more confidently now, the perfect comfort of this _now_  that seemed to be all there was, warm and intimate and wrapped up in soft edges, a space that didn’t hurt at all that they’d carved out with bloody-minded determination and what neither would admit to being hope.

Smooth, their movements, now, Hakkai anticipating Gojyo more quickly now, needing less guidance. Step and sway, turn and rock, Gojyo guiding his hand up and back towards himself, so gentle it seemed part of the dance to thread his fingers in Gojyo’s hair, Hakkai rocking back against him as Gojyo’s hand slid back down his arm, his side, stroking over Hakkai’s thigh, stealing his breath and promising pleasure. So close he could almost press his cock against his hand, so good, the tease, the way his head fit in the curve of Gojyo’s shoulder, utterly natural in a way that really ought to terrify him and did terrify him in how much it didn’t.

Grinding against him, the mood shifting from intimacy to sensuality, slowly, as slow as Hakkai’s hand curling around Gojyo’s hip, tugged him closer, as slow as Gojyo rocking against him, the gently demanding slide of his fingers over Hakkai’s chest, pulling him in tight, soft brushes of lips against his ear, his neck, rising heat and lazy friction. Warm contentment suffusing his body, music wrapping around them, pressing them closer together, the feel of Gojyo’s hard cock against him edging it sweetly, making him tremble with anticipation. He tugged Gojyo closer, nails in his thigh muffled by Gojyo’s jeans, grinding his ass against him, brush of fingers over Hakkai’s cock just enough to make him ache before Gojyo slid his hand up his shirt, warm fingers dancing skilfully over skin, the slow alchemy of this transition accelerating as Hakkai moaned and squirmed against him, wanting the touch back.

Gojyo’s touch was everywhere, now, sliding up to explore his shirt, other hand slipping along just under his pants, kissing and licking down his neck, shivering for Hakkai nipping at his own temptingly bare neck (really, if he wanted it unmolested, he ought not to walk around Hakkai in those flimsy tank tops), all the little kisses and caresses sharper for being unable to see them. Opened up for Gojyo, buttons unfastened, fabric pushed up and away to bare him to his touch, and Gojyo rocking insistent against him, stroking and kissing. Wanting to see him, the denial delicious, turning to press against him, friction of their bodies as they rocked against each other, slow, still moving to the music, Gojyo’s mouth on his stealing thought and breath and everything but pleasure. Trembling against him, sensations blurring together, Gojyo’s hands on his body, mouth on his jaw, rocking against him in time with the music, and Hakkai could finally feel it now, under his skin, in his bones, the way Gojyo must. His own hunger built with it, and he slid his hands through Gojyo’s hair, over his face, throat, shoulders, arms, learning him again, one hand slipping down to unzip Gojyo’s jeans, rewarded by a sharp little bite and Gojyo murmuring his name, quiet and deep and rough, voice as much a caress as the hands that tugged his shirt open.

The music shifted, a little slower now, and Hakkai moved with it without thinking, slow curl of his fingers around Gojyo’s arousal, so lovely and hard for him, stroking him in the same rhythm as Gojyo bared him to his sight, ragged gasp for it as he rocked into Hakkai’s hand. So slow, the slide of Gojyo’s tongue over his collarbone, almost painful anticipation in its wake; so gentle, the caress of Gojyo’s hand over his body (avoiding his scar so easily Hakkai would have thought it accidental if he didn’t know exactly how careful Gojyo was with it), down into his pants, and _oh_ , Gojyo’s hand around him, stroking him, rocking against him, so beautiful. Still a dance like this, still the same rhythm, and he could almost reach towards understanding how Gojyo could be so at ease in his skin, for that awareness that Hakkai had only ever directed to another to kill them.

Arching against Gojyo with the slide of his arm up his back, holding him tight, stroking him faster now, rocking with each other, kissing, nuzzling, licking, Gojyo everywhere, warming him, a blessing he couldn’t dare presume to deserve, each touch leaving his skin tingling, aware, anticipating, each a surprise, so good, _Gojyo_ …

His Gojyo, trembling against Hakkai, now, his name murmured like a plea, like a prayer, and Hakkai held him tight, stroked him faster, wanting to soothe, comfort, protect, please, satisfy, possess, _take_  with every fibre of his jealous body and greedy heart, all that hopeless tangled web of emotion that quieted into something steadier with every touch, leaving him shaking as well. So beautiful, Gojyo, and he didn’t have to see him to know it, feel it, would know it if he’d torn both his eyes out that night or never possessed them to begin with. Need that spiralled higher, winding tighter for both of them, Gojyo biting at his ear, pressed soft kisses to his jaw and throat and cheeks, soft sounds of pleasure that spurred Hakkai on quickly; stroking fast, now, urgency overriding the gentle pace of earlier, bodies aching for completion, Gojyo holding him close, tight, hand clenched in his hair. Gojyo’s skin under his mouth, taste of him, so good, stroking him so very skilfully, demanding, almost-

Irresistible, and Hakkai bit down on his throat hard, rocking desperately against him as he came, burying himself in Gojyo’s scent and touch and taste and the sound of him, writhing against him, in his hold, Gojyo’s name falling raggedly from him, stroking him fast and tight through his own climax, breath stolen by the force of it, drawn out, shaking uncontrollably. Only a few more strokes,  and Gojyo joined him, thrusting into his hand, holding his hair tight enough to sting his scalp, low cry falling from him as he came over Hakkai’s fingers, pressed to his skin, rocking against him desperately, sweet satisfaction for pleasing him so, and this, this was Hakkai’s music, the rhythm of Gojyo’s heart, the movement of his body, sweet and, for this single perfect moment, all there was, any actual sound blotted out by the roar of his own blood in his ears. Slow touches, ragged breath, holding tight, Gojyo’s mouth on him, clutching at him, kissing and nibbling, as unseeing as Hakkai was. And yet he reached up easily for Gojyo’s cheek, kissing slow and gentle, utterly certain right now, in these final steps of gentle caresses and almost-still bodies, and the strangest thing was, he didn’t feel blind at all.

 


End file.
